


A Room With a Good Southern View (coda)

by Fallynleaf



Series: the Bobby John AU [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, First Time, Kid Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-19
Updated: 2014-08-19
Packaged: 2018-02-13 21:37:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2166042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fallynleaf/pseuds/Fallynleaf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A somewhat pornographic continuation of sorts for the first ficlet in the Bobby John AU ficlet compilation. This coda takes place later that day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Room With a Good Southern View (coda)

**Author's Note:**

> [A Room With a Good Southern View](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2165958/chapters/4736241) precedes this fic and should probably be read first, or this fic might be a little confusing.

"So, uh," Dean said, as Sam turned on the light and closed the door. "Still want to do this?" Dean asked.

"Yep. You?" Sam asked.

"Yeah." Dean walked over to the window and closed the blinds, his fingers clumsy. "Uh..." he said again, trailing off.

They stared at each other for a minute in silence.

"So, how do we want to do this, then?" Dean asked.

"Let's just start with something simple," Sam said, taking a few steps towards him.

"Do we want the lights off?" Dean asked.

"How about we keep them on for the first time, while we're still figuring it out. Besides, I want to look at you, Dean." Sam was only a few feet away from him, now. Waiting.

Dean turned towards him, putting the window at his back. "You're such a girl, Sammy," he said. Dean hesitated, then bridged the gap between them, his hand almost coming up to rest on Sam's face, stopping instead to fall upon his shoulders.

Sam clutched Dean's face in his own hands, then. Gentle and careful, unsure if this was how Dean wanted it to go. Dean closed his eyes as Sam stroked his cheek, his breathing subdued.

Then Sam leaned forward and kissed him. It was easier, after that. They both remembered that they knew what to do.

Sam's fingers brushed against Dean's skin above his hip, and then he was clutching the bottom of Dean's shirt and lifting it over his head, discarding it on the floor, on _their_ floor. A moment passed while they resumed kissing, and then Dean did the same to Sam's shirt, his fingers ghosting over Sam's skin, the feel of them cold and warm at the same time.

They had to stop to take care of their belts, both of them laughing a little as they undid their buckles and then slid their pants down their legs. Then there were just a thin layer of underwear between them, and there were no more illusions about what either of them wanted to do next.

"I remember that scar," Sam said, running a finger down its length on Dean's chest. "Vampire, right?"

"Mhmm," Dean said, eloquent as ever.

"I like your scars. They remind me that you're alive," Sam said. "I don't have as many."

"Keep it that way," Dean growled. "I don't like seeing my family getting hurt."

"So scars are a turn off for you?" Sam asked, tucking his face into Dean's neck and kissing him there. Some part of him felt self-conscious of the marks that covered his own body, laid bare in the incandescent light.

"Didn't say that," Dean panted. "Are we ever... you know... gonna move to the bed at some point?" Dean asked.

"Sure," Sam said, laying one last kiss on Dean's neck. "What d'you want to do there?" he asked.

"Um," Dean said. He didn't know how to have sex with another guy, or what he was even doing here, planning on having sex with his _brother_ , of all people. Sam read all of those thoughts on his face as clear as a warm summer day.

"How about we just start with hands," Sam suggested. "I think we can both figure that one out."

"Okay," Dean said. Sam helped him peel back the covers on the bed, then both of them climbed into it and spent a moment just lying there and staring at each other, unsure of what to do.

"Underwear," Sam remembered.

"We should probably get rid of that," Dean said.

"Don't let it get too far away. What if the kid comes in needing something?" Sam said.

"Right," Dean said. They both sat up and shucked their boxers, dropping them over the side of the bed to be collected later. Then they turned back and their eyes met and slowly lowered.

Sam had seen Dean naked dozens of times before, and this wasn't even the first time he'd seen Dean with an erection, but he was fairly certain that this was the first time that he'd seen Dean with an erection that he'd put there.

"Uh, wow," Dean said, his eyes fixed on Sam's crotch. "That's, uh, something. Very, um‒" Sam cut him off with a kiss.

They ended up roughly horizontal on the bed, neither of them pushing to take control or climb on top of the other, both of them just lying sideways, their mouths connected but not much else.

Sam knew that Dean was not going to take the initiative, not this first time, when some part of him still saw this as exploiting his baby brother. So Sam reached out and touched Dean's dick. Lightly, with just his fingertips at first, then more assuredly, wrapping his fingers around it.

Dean made a noise in his mouth, their kiss growing a little sloppy, and Sam started to move his hand up and down, modifying the movement from how he did it when it was his own hand on his own dick.

A moment later, Dean was touching him, skipping all of the hesitant in-between steps and just grabbing his cock. Then Dean shuffled closer and reached out and pulled Sam against him, their chests flush against each other, legs apart only so that there was enough space between their bodies for them to keep moving their hands.

"Hang on, I have an idea," Sam said, breaking their kiss.

"Less talking, more handjob, Sammy," Dean said, frustrated.

Sam removed his hand from Dean's dick then pried Dean's fingers off of Sam's. Then he closed the rest of the space between them so that their whole bodies, from their faces to their dicks to their legs, were pressed against each other. Then he worked one hand in between them and grasped both of their cocks, together.

Dean moaned. _That_ was an entirely new sensation for both of them.

"Better?" Sam asked.

In this position, Dean had to either lean up to kiss Sam's mouth or settle for his neck, so he chose the latter of the two. "Better," he whispered against Sam's skin. "Knew I should've listened to my ‒ mhmm ‒ my smartass little brother."

They were both on the edge, now. There was no pretending otherwise, no false claims of stamina beyond what they had. They had both lied to women before, had lied to each other about plenty of other things, but there was no lying here, in this bed. Any variety of sex between them had to be the honest kind, or this would never work out.

"Dean, I'm‒" Sam started to give a warning.

"Sh, I've got you, Sammy," Dean said into Sam's neck.

And it was so unnecessary, it was so _Dean_ , trying to make Sam feel protected even when Dean was the smaller one, the one listening to him, following in his wake.

And then there were no more thoughts. Only a blind rush of sensation that rippled through Sam and took his breath from him, and his hand was faltering, but then Dean's hand curled around his fingers and took over.

Sam couldn't see Dean's face when Dean came shortly after him. Though he felt the flutter of eyelashes against his skin, felt the vibration of Dean's moan travel through his body.

They just lay together for a few minutes, limbs tangled, their stomachs pressed warm and sticky against each other.

"Now what?" Dean mumbled, his voice drowsy.

"We should probably get cleaned up," Sam said. And before Dean could suggest it, he added, "These are brand new sheets."

"I was thinking we could just do that in the morning," Dean said.

"The kid, Dean," Sam reminded him.

Dean grumbled, but moved anyway, separating himself from Sam. He glanced around the room, blinking bleary-eyed in the light. "Hang on, where're the tissues?" he asked.

"I don't think we've remembered to buy those yet," Sam said. "There's toilet paper in the bathroom, though. And washcloths, which are probably more along the lines of what we want right now."

They got up out of the bed and stumbled into the bathroom. Sam fetched a washcloth from under the sink, then held it under the warm water. He stared at their reflections in the mirror, at the mess on both of their stomachs. Then he wrung out the rag and moved to clean himself, except Dean immediately snatched it out of his hands and started to do it for him.

"Hey!" Sam protested. "I'm capable of cleaning myself, you know."

"Quicker this way," Dean said. Some part of him was guilty about the mess, Sam knew. Guilty because he let himself cum all over his baby brother.

Then Dean was finished, and he was rinsing out the rag in the sink, and Sam reached over and yanked it out of his hands.

Before Dean could stop him, Sam said, "Just returning the favor," and pressed the wet cloth against Dean's stomach.

Then they were done and walking back into the bedroom, the floor a mess of strewn clothes, the bedcovers in disarray. Both of them picked up their boxers and slid them back on. Dean hit the light switch before he followed Sam back into the bed.

They found each other in the middle of the mattress, arms curling around each other, and this time Sam's head ended up in the crook of Dean's neck, and he was going to talk, was going to say something before the night was over and the moment passed, but his eyelids grew heavy almost immediately, and he drifted off before he remembered to speak.

Sam woke with harsh morning light pouring in through the blinds and spilling across his face. Dean woke around the same time, groaning.

"What time is it?" Sam asked. He'd known they'd need to buy curtains.

"Ass o'clock in the morning," Dean muttered. He yanked the pillow out from under his head ‒ one he'd apparently forgotten he was sharing with Sam ‒ and rolled over in the bed to bury his head under it.

"Can you really sleep like that?" Sam asked, grabbing the other pillow on the bed to replace the one Dean had snatched.

"No." Dean's voice was muffled.

"Then I have a better idea for something we could do right now," Sam said.

"Morning sex? Why didn't you just get started? Would much rather wake up to that than the damn sun," Dean said, tossing the pillow aside.

"I want to talk to you, Dean," Sam said. "Before the kid wakes up and we have to start censoring the word 'sex.'"

"Okay, fine, we can talk. About what?" Dean asked.

"Are you okay?" Sam asked. "Okay with, y'know... the fact that we're having sex. Or that we had it once, if you don't want to do it again."

Dean looked at him, hair all tousled, somewhat still debauched looking. "The only part I'm not okay with is the fact that I'm okay with it," Dean said, letting out a breath. "I know I shouldn't like it, I shouldn't _want_ it, but it was some of the best sex I ever had ‒ not because either of us are particularly skilled, 'cause let's face it, Sammy, we're going pretty much blind into this one ‒ but because the one thing I've always cared about the most in the world was right there with me, and I didn't have to worry about you. I could have my pie and eat it, too."

"Ignoring the fact that you compared having sex with me to eating pie in that metaphor..." Sam started. Dean elbowed him, and he smiled. "We should've started doing this years ago. At the very least, it would've made sharing a motel room a lot less awkward. And weirdly enough, it simplifies things a lot, I think."

"Yeah. And you know what, Sammy?" Dean said. Sam opened his mouth, but then Dean leaned over and kissed him, long and languorous and way too distracting. "Can we be done with the jibber-jabber and get to the part where we have morning sex now?" Dean said, his face an inch away from Sam's.

That's when the door to their room burst open, and they scrambled away from each other as Bobby John ran into the room and jumped onto their bed.

"Come on, Dad and Dad! It's morning and we're in a new house and I'm hungry. What's for breakfast?" she said, shaking Dean, then shaking Sam.

Sam looked past Bobby John and met Dean's gaze. "That thing you just mentioned, Dean?" he said. "I think it's going to be off the menu until the kid grows up and moves out."

Dean looked momentarily distraught. Then he turned towards Bobby John and held up a hand, "Alright, alright!" he said. "Lemme get some pants on and then I'll go downstairs and fry us some bacon and eggs."


End file.
